I can't tell you all how glad I am to be done with that NYC trip post. 8 months, 2.8 million dollars over budget and one very dehydrated squirrel stuntman later, I am ready to talk about the rest of my summer.
The topic/photo dump of the day is a bit of a time warp. The real reason it took me 8 months, is that I have been hard at work on a time machine. And now, you and I dear reader, will test it out for the first time. No worries though, whens the last time a physicist
messed something up.
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| from wikia |
The plan for the weekend was to bag Santanoni, Panther, and Couchsachragra, three of the Adirondack High peaks. These particular three do not have official trails to the top, instead you follow herd paths. As with most adventures, it gets worse.
My dad was super excited to start here, just out of sight of the parking lot on the service road that led to the trail.
We went along the service road for probably a mile or so, an estimation at this point which is about as accurate as my homegrown scale of temperature, rubbing my nipples and correlating their relative hardness to the temperature.
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| It's already been picked up by Hollywood. -from technorati |
Right after entering the trail we started up a nice set of bridges. Here I utilized out my other homegrown scale;
Testing if a bridge is unbroken by jumping on it and otherwise trying my best to break it.
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| Seven states have bridge trespassing laws because of me. -from wiki |
For the first half of the hike we follow a trail that passes through the area. It converges with another trail in the saddle between two of the mountains. From here, the herd paths to each mountain began, each running somewhere between a half mile to 2 miles. The approach trail was pretty standard:
Early in the day we took water sources for granted.
I bought a Spanish bota bag and for about 4 hours had the most fun drinking in my life short of the appearance of the
Assmuncher.
But because I bought it from walmart, it proceeded to LITERALLY EXPLODE
IN MY FACE and then I was left with a pathetic foreskin of a
water bladder.
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| from bamboonation |
Upon reaching the junction after several hours, the trail got steadily narrower. It would start like this, manageable, just necessary to watch where you're going.
Within minutes we would be above the deciduous tree line, and would be surrounded by pine trees. Here, it was the equivalent of when the Bear tried sneaking into the overstuffed Mitten.
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| His young adult reboot "The Crusty Sock" was met with less than favorable reviews. -from HarperCollinsBooks |
You had to fight your way with pine trees holding you back like you had some kind of beef with the path ahead. You could almost hear the trees saying 'He's not worth it son, let it go.' By the end of the weekend, we were both covered with scratches, and I personally had a worse twitch then when The Climb came out. In my defense, I was carrying most of the bulky stuff, including the tent which extends out beyond the backpack on either side. It caught on the branches constantly, and required almost all of my attention. Which resulted in me walking face first into the following:
By late afternoon we reached Santanoni Peak. Near the top there was a nice outlook, and we could see along the ridge to the next mountain, Couch.
The "Path"
This guy followed us the last quarter mile up to the top. Not an exaggeration, he hopped along in the bushes behind us up the hill, and even held still long enough for this picture.
He either gets fed a lot by hikers, or at least has gotten baked before, because this bird was chill as fuck.
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| source unknown |
The view at the top was less than perfect.
I was disappointed.
Couch visible again off to the left.
By the time we got back to to the junction, it was getting to be 4 or 5 in the evening. It was around this time we realized we were several miles from water and any kind of comfortable camping spot. If you have never been hiking, around 3500-4000 feet the climate goes from normal forest, to broken pine trees and shrubs, to bare rock and lichen. We were at the top of that second layer. We started hiking down, and it took almost an hour to get down in elevation far enough to find running water. It was nothing more then a pathetic trickle through the rocks, but we scraped it in to our filters.
At this point we still had seen no camping spots, the edges of the trail were walls of pines. Also, by continuing to head down we added more and more distance we had to climb back up the next day. We headed back up, and by 8 as heavy twilight set in we resolved to camp at the junction, just below the summit.
As you can imagine, it was an uncomfortable night. Roots, exposed rocks, and high winds. But it was worth it to see the view early in the morning as we woke up.
We woke up thinking we had missed Noah's flood, but those aren't the wrathful seas of god down there. It was fog that had settled in the valleys overnight. They looked very solid, and no doubt the dementors were having a solid night of breeding.
Here is Couch up ahead in the morning.
After a day of being scraped by pine trees, my tent bag was ripped open by the branch, about the same time as the remaining filter on my mouth.
Merlin's Beard!
Here is the even more spectacular view from Couch. These peaks were pathetic, and I've been to Porter.
There was a bog between the junction and Couch. It was just the thing we needed, the only section without claustrophobia inducing trails would have soul and sole sucking peat.
Here is the top of Panther. It complemented the others nicely to form a tripod of no view peaks.
Back on the approach trail heading back down.
Beaver pondd.
The High Peaks are a very nice area, but dear god I would not suggest these three unless you are an aspiring 46er. A lot of the mountains have tons of replay value and warrant multiple trips, but this is one where I am glad to have it over and never want to go back. With my luck I am going to have to, and I'll probably approach it with about the same maturity as the women in Jumanji.
